


Every Feather Frays and Falls

by welcome_to_write_fail



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcome_to_write_fail/pseuds/welcome_to_write_fail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas had always had a profound bond, but Dean could always tell that there was something more. More than just love for an angel who had only just entered his poorly developed life. More than just a man in a tan overcoat he just happens to have surprisingly fallen for.  But Cas is hiding something. Something he knows would shatter Deans heart. His angel of the lord was diffusing feathers wherever he goes and is slowly deteriorating... and all for Dean. And so Cas begins to wonder 'if I leave now, can I save Deans life and spare him the pain?' Becauase Castiel knows that if the pain Dean will feel when Cas is gone is anything like the pain he would feel if anything was to happen to Dean... he would rather be dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first Destiel fan-fiction and I hope you will like it! Sorry about... you know... the fact that it's... amateur... and... well quite frankly terrible. But I tried my best so I would be grateful if you gave it a try! - Lauren
> 
> pray-to-the-gay.tumblr.com

The teenage boy ran to the shore where the waves reached out, clawing at him, begging for him to come closer in rhythmic rows of white arms. He glared at the shells, picking one up and rubbing its smooth silken insides. The light from the sun made the sea sparkle and twinkle; each diamond there for a brief second and then gone and never to return. But the boy squinted more inquisitively when the white hypnotic lights of the ocean rolled closer to reveal, not a pure white light, but a deep and glinting golden glow which seemed to light the ocean floor from within, leaping upwards every now and again to shine even more intensely in the humid summer air. Disregarding his new plaid shirt, the only thing stopping his arms from becoming raw and painful, he snapped his hand into the water. It was much cooler than he had expected and enjoyed the sensation of it tugging and towing, in and out with his drenched sleeve. When the boy retrieved his dripping hand along with the curious object, he held it there for a moment. What the boy held was a single golden feather. An unusual feather at that, but a feather none the less. And so the boy ran back to his brother and uncle to show them the golden piece that had been so carefully and beautifully scorched and charred from shimmering gold.

 

*****

 

Cas nudged longingly at his wings, luminescent in the hallway mirror. Not perfect, but at least his were mostly still intact. After all, he had gotten much use from them. He looked at the frame of the mirror, at the cracks and burn marks and saw how it framed his damaged and tired figure.  Castiel noticed how also, it highlighted his own scorches and cracks, woven into his broad wings and non-aging face.

The angel didn’t usually care about this appearance, however today was important. Today was the day when Dean would see him as a friend and partner instead of warrior and machine. He turned away and blinked slowly.

When his eyes opened he choked at the heat trying to escape his lungs and held it there against the changed air. It saddened him to know that every time he teleported, every time he flew closer to Dean…. He got weaker and his wings drooped a little more. Another feather would give up on clutching to him and fall into the void.

“Cas,” Deans voice came from behind him, warming him against the tangy frozen air.

“Hello Dean,” Cas replied, counting all four layers of plaid wrapped around his trembling frame, “Interesting location.”

Dean half smiled and rubbed the back of his head like a nervous teenager and breathed a laugh, “Yeah. It was the closest place which was also, unfortunately, the coldest. Sorry about that. We could have gone inside but… but you know. Can’t be too careful can we.”

Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes slightly, “You say that like you don’t want people to see us alone together.”

Wrapping his layers tighter around him, Dean laughed a little more softly and his cheeks flushed despite the cold. The breeze toyed with his hair, pushing back the short strands. Cas thought how weak he looked. He knew it would hurt and may come with consequences, but he couldn’t stand to see Dean suffer in this way.

“Come on, Dean,” Cas said with sympathetic eyes, touching his shoulder gently, “Let’s go somewhere a little warmer.”

In an instant, Dean found himself on a golden beach, the change in temperature shocking him, forcing him to grip tightly for a moment onto Cas’ arm. Dean began to question the location of his bowels. He felt his boots sink into the fine grains of sand and closed his eyes, seeing only the glowing of the setting sun leak through his eyelids. Roaring waves swam into his ears like deep rhythmic breaths. However, behind the noise of sighing ocean, there was something else. More shallow and wheezy breaths; almost panicked.

 And Dean realised it was coming from Castiel.

He opened his eyes and turned his head sharply to face his angel. Instead of his hands gently resting onto Dean's shoulder, he was leaning on him, gripping him tight and using him to steady himself.

“Cas,” Dean choked when he saw his face, in pain and panicking “Cas!”

As Castiel calmed, his breaths became deeper and his back became straighter, wings higher as he managed to gasp out between breaths, “I’m… I’m fine… Dean... Really.”

“No,” Dean said sternly, eyes wide, “What the hell, Cas? Hey, hey! Cas, look at me dammit!”

Dean tore Cas’ hand from his shoulder and took it in his own, doing his best to steady him. Eyes droopy and unfocused, Cas looked up at Dean, seeming almost frightened.

‘Why did I do this?’ Cas thought to himself, ‘It’s not safe for me anymore. Or for Dean. What if something had happened to him?’ Cas winced at the thought of him harming Dean after being so foolish. But at least he was happy now, warm in his arms and not cold on the harsh autumn highlands. Eyes beginning to focus, Cas found himself staring at the ground, watching the grains of sand dance around each other in his eyes and sway like a drunk metronome.

“Cas?” Dean spoke quietly, using his now warm fingers to gently nudge Cas’ head upwards towards his. The angel shook his head sadly and stared longingly into Dean’s emerald eyes, glowing in the ruby sunlight.

“Dean,” he said pulling away now balanced without Dean’s aid, “I’m sorry. I have been… so foolish.”

Dean glared, the relief clear on his face. He stepped away from Cas who seemed to now be back to his normal self. He looked around and tried to recognise where they were.

“Okay Cas, I don’t know what the hell is going on but you ain’t shooting me off anywhere until you explain-” but Dean cut off mid-sentence, looking out to sea, shading his eyes with this sweating hand, “This is Pawleys. Cas, why would you bring us to Pawleys?”

Cas sighed and ruffled his wings a little, ignoring the feathers being taken away, pulled by the gentle breeze towards the hued sky. He felt better and a little stronger but feared what would happen when he tried to return Dean to Sam.

“I just…” Cas spoke taking a step towards Dean and looking out at the sea of silhouetted waves, “Why? You say that like you have been before.”

Dean smiled softly and Cas couldn’t help staring at his face, glowing in the setting sun, “Bobby brought us here once. Sammy was just a kid and I… well I was young too. Dad went on a hunting trip and we knew he wasn’t going to be back for a couple of weeks. Man, I can remember how much Bobby had to plead,” Dean glanced down to the waves that began nibbling at his boot toes and then at Cas, “for him to let us go on, what Bobby called a well-deserved break to the norm.”

Cas smiled up at Dean who was now removing the many layers of plaid beneath his leather jacket, then frowned a little when he realised he was going to leave the bottom one on, “Bobby was good to you boys.”

At this, Dean winked and laughed, “Like the father I never had.”

Cas smiled wider. He liked it when Dean laughed. The sound trembled through his wings making them feel as whole as they once were. And, well, when he winked at him, as platonic as it may be, Cas couldn’t help but feel more powerful than ever.

As the last snippet of sun sank below the vast horizon, Dean wrapped his arm around his angel, being careful not to damage the wings, which he could see were deteriorating day by day. Castiel watched the light of the sun dissipate from Dean's eyes and sighed. He allowed his weak head to flop hopelessly onto Dean’s shoulder.

“Oh Cas,” Dean looked at his closed eyes. With a goofy smile he ruffled his angel’s hair, as soft as his wings. He looked out to the sky, darkness seeping in like ink leaking into the clouds as his smile turned more wary and saddened, “What am I going to do with you?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Bear with it, I know it may seem to start off weird. Please do let me know if you want these chapters to keep on coming! Love to anyone and everyone reading this! - Lauren.
> 
> Also, one thing I have noticed is that the chapters are quite short. I apologise now! Also any angelic rules such as 'the wings are invisible' and 'angels don't sleep' and any other rules that I may have already broken: I also apologise!
> 
> pray-to-the-gay.tumblr.com

 

Cas. Dean. Flickers of fuzzy images flash between each eye. Impala. Dean. Singing. Voices. Movement. Questions. Dean. The images sharpen into crisp visions, curdling and twisting in front of Cas’ startled blue eyes, closed and moving rapidly. Leather. The smell of oil. Dean. Snippets of radio waves caressing Cas’ ears. Lyrics. Voice. Dean’s voice. Dean. Lights on faces. Hypnotic orange lights bouncing around the impala. Road. Dean. Joy. Flashes of white strips on the ever moving tarmac, never ending. The tapping of fingers on the steering wheel. Dean. Colours. Lights in front of Cas’ eyes. Hands. Dean. Heart racing. Dean. Laughter. Dean. Sand. Dean. The images shake and begin to wash over black. Dean. Waves. Dean. Dean.

“Dean…” Cas awoke, mumbling in a sleepy daze on the shadowed beach. He rolled onto his aching back and lay sprawled out on top of his wings which were now steady and relaxed though flustered from a dream that he couldn't remember but they obviously could. He stared up into the void of the night, the sky clear and showing every twitching star in all of its beauty. Each faint dot in the darkness shimmered and shone in the black mass like glimmers of hope in a tragedy. Castiel always made time to appreciate the beauty of his father’s creations but never once imagined that he could see the most divine of sights just by simply looking up. Then, upon hearing Dean singing softly to a song he didn’t recognise, he smiled and sat up.

“Rise and shine Cassy,” Dean said without turning around. He was sat crossed legged on the shore, poking a weak fire with a small branch. He turned around for a second and flashed him a half smile.

“How… How long was I asleep?” Cas asked narrow eyes as he crawled his way over to Deans side.

Dean tugged at his waist, steadying him when he nearly fell into the fire in a dizzy haze. He pulled him closer, “Whoa there big guy. About two hours or so. I could work it out exactly if you want by adding up the track times to all the songs I sang waiting for you to wake up.”

Cas’ jaw dropped slightly. Two hours? He turned away shamefully, “My apologies Dean,” he murmured as he looked around, “We appear to have moved location. I don’t remember…”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said flinging his arm outwards in the vague direction of the sea, “The freakin’ tide was coming in! Had to carry you after you blacked out.”

“Oh,” was all Castiel could say, feeling more and more embarrassed with every word Dean spoke, “I should get you home.”

Uneasily, the angel climbed to his feet and leaned over into an awkward crouch. Suddenly, his wings lurched to the side and Cas was forced to slam into Dean's lap. Cas wondered what had gotten them so excited at a time like this and tried to remember the dream that had obviously gotten them so agitated.

“Again… apologies. They do this… sometimes,” with help from Dean he found himself, once again, sprawled out on the beach, “I am one… pathetic excuse for an angel.”

Dean smiled down an him as he nuzzled his drowsy face into the leather jacket Cas realised he had been sleeping on and stroked his wings, being careful not to pluck him like a turkey, “Yeah Cas,” he sighed, “But you’re my pathetic excuse of for angel.”

“Fine, Dean” Cas pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared into the fire, “I’m just fine.”

At this, Dean laughed and twisted his body from the fire to face Castiel, “Now, I don’t know much about angel malarkey,” he started as he wiped the sand from his jacket underneath Cas, “But what I do know,” as he spoke he moved his hands to the angel's face, warm against the fire, and began gently brushing away the rough sand, “Is that there is no way in hell I’m letting you take me home in a state like this.”

Cas chuckled and wafted away Deans hands, “Right Dean, but you have to understand that I feel some responsibility.”

“And,” Dean said never taking his eyes off Cas’, “You understand that I feel some terror.”

“As you wish Dean. However, my concern is more that Bobby and Sam will begin to worry about you. Do they even know you’re with me?”

As he spoke, Dean bit his lip, not entirely listening, but more focusing on how beautifully deep Castiel’s voice was. After Cas had finished talking, he just closed his eyes and stretched his arms to the sky in a yawn.

“Dean, are you even listening?” Cas watched as Dean creased and crumpled his plaid into a ball and placed it on the ground as a makeshift pillow. Before he laid his weary head to rest, he tossed a shirt to Cas, who caught it in his dusty palms and couldn’t resist soaking up as much of Dean’s scent as he could.

“Four hours, man,” Dean said smiling as he closed his eyes, “That’s all I need. We’ve talked about this.”

Looking down at Deans closed eyes and watching his peaceful face flicker and dance in the flames, Cas realised just how much Dean cared. He thought about how often he had put off flying with Cas after noticing the feathers on the carpets and tarmac. He wondered why Dean was so careful to not touch his wings and how gentle he was when he did. Dean could sugar coat it any way he liked but there was nothing that could stop Castiel from thinking this human felt even slightly the same way as he did. Maybe he didn’t have to tell Dean. Maybe he would work it out for himself. Maybe then, he’ll know why Cas wants the bond between him and Dean more profound. Thoughts swam around Cas’ angelic head like a halo and as he continued to watch the light play on his face. He allowed his mind to wonder. And, sat here on a leather jacket, pressing his nose into plaid and watching a grown man sleep under the protection of the void… he was happy.

“Hey, Cas?” Cas was still watching him as he spoke, Dean not opening his eyes, “Can we talk about… the thing.”

The angel squinted into the shadows, “I don’t understand Dean.”

But he did.

Dean opened his eyes and rolled them, “Dammit Cas, the thing. The thing that we both know is happening and neither of us bring up. Hell, you’ve noticed. If you haven’t then your majestic angel deduction powers are not what they once were. And Cas…”

Cas just froze, unmoving and unbreathing. The conversation was inevitable and he knew it. Dean inhaled deeply and exhaled. His voice caught in his thought when he spoke, “You’re not what you once were.”

Cas took a sharp breath, “Dean, I…”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Dean interrupted, “I just… want you to know that whatever this is; whatever crazy ass angel shit is happening… I’m here for you. And we can get through this together. Saving you, avoiding things. That’ll be our business, Cas. Just like we always do.”

Cas could no nothing but look up and grin into the void above them, holding witness to this perfect moment as it rains down stars. The fire was slowly burning out, trickling away into the sand, the crackly and luminescent embers fading away. It was then Castiel knew, after Dean’s words had proven it, he truly was seen as a friend and partner, “Thank you Dean,” Cas spoke softly, “I… I don’t feel like a warrior or machine to you now.”

Dean cocked his head and grinned widely when he heard the smile in his voice and chuckled at the strange statement, “You never were to me, Cas,” he watched as the last drop of light drained from the wood and repeated, “You never were to me.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Dean woke the next morning the deep void had been replaced by the golden glow of sunlight flooding the opalescent sky. He turned on his side and rubbed his aching spine, mumbling, “Son of a bitch,” at a low enough level to not wake Cas but loud enough to let his back know just how much he despised it. Through the harsh glow of day, Dean saw little but bright light. All of a sudden, Dean found his eyes relaxing as the light faded away. As his eyes adjusted he could see the outline of a trench coat crouching at his feet, wings up high and wide, shading Deans eyes.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said, the sun radiating off of his back. Dean was unsure as to how long the angel had been crouching there, watching him sleeping peacefully on the serene beach.

“Am I…” Dean began, squinting drearily into Cas’ ocean blue eyes, “Am I dead?”

The angel frowned, concerned, “I hope not.”

Dean smiled at Cas’ innocence and sat up, puzzled, “Four hours, right?”

“I had four hours. You had about seven. I was going to wake you but…” Cas tilted his head to the side, slices of sunlight radiating through the upright strands of hair.

“You just couldn’t bring yourself to bother me?” Dean finished for him with a half-smile and a wink. Cas felt his heart throb a little harder, mimicking the waves crashing into the distant rocks, vibrations invading the sand below his bare feet.

“Yeah,” He shrugged knowing that actually it was because Dean was a very heavy sleeper, “Something like that.”

Dean winked again making Cas’ wings shake, forcing a blast of light into Dean’s eyes, taking him fully by surprise.

He laughed as he lifted his hand to cast a shadow over his eyes, “Dammit Cas.”

Cas sighed nervously, taking control of his wings once more and moving them to protect Dean, “Apologies. Home?”

Cas reached out, taking Dean’s outstretched hand and caressing the burnt red areas on his hand with his thumb. Cas almost regretted letting Dean sleep for so long in the harsh sunrays.

“Wait,” Dean said, forcefully gripping Cas’ hand back and pulling him down from his crouch to rest comfortably beside him, “We need to talk, Cas.”

Cas laughed as he was forced into Dean’s arms, hopelessly nestled like a bird with his wings wrapped snugly around her young. Dean moved in slightly, allowing the feathers to crawl under him, embracing them both in a blanket of cascading white. Dean sighed deeply, chest forcing the wings up into a moving mound of delicate twists of emitted light, only to fall down as the hot breath left Dean’s lungs.

“I mean,” Dean said, a sad smile leaking onto his face, “As much as I would love to stay here with you and your fairy wings forever, I got human stuff. You know, we’ve had this conversation before. And I’m not going to lie, Cas, I’m getting kind of starving,” Cas looked up into his hungry eyes and suspected he had pie on his mind. He longed to be able to fly away and retrieve some for him but deep down he knew he had to ration his mileage, “And I can’t drink salt water, you know.”

“I know Dean,” Cas stopped him, sounding humorously annoyed. He laughed, “I’ll take you home now.”

Cas moved to stand but Dean clung onto the lining of his coat, sliding his hand over his chest to grip it tight, and gently pulled him back down, “Not so fast, Cas. I can stay here in pain and extreme suffering for a little longer. Like I said, we have to talk about the freakin’ giant winged elephant in the room.”

Cas chuckled then paused, thinking of a response, “You’ve noticed then.”

“We all have, Cas,” Dean’s said softly as is not to scare away the winged creature, fearing it may fly away and never come back. He gripped onto Cas’ chest a little more tightly, “We all have.”

Cas smiled, “I… I never thought of myself as an elephant.”

Dean laughed, almost relieved that Cas was taking it well, “Yeah, Cas… but a winged elephant. And hell, I loved Dumbo…”

Cas squinted up at Dean, his head still resting on the rolls of plaid, Cas’ head resting in the crook of Dean’s shoulder, “You watch Disney animations?”

“Okay,” Dean stopped him, turning red despite the sun, “Getting off point and this is really… not off import…”

“Can I be your Dumbo then, Dean?” Cas asked, almost sounding childish as he closed his eyes.

“Sure, Cas,” Dean said quietly, watching his eyes shift beneath the lids of his eyes, “You can be my Dumbo.”

Dean knew that this little thing would somehow mean a lot to Cas; this dumb nickname that would make him feel closer to Dean. Laying there on the warm sand, the crumbling angel burrowed in his chest, Dean knew that he would do whatever he could, whatever it takes to make him happy. He didn’t entirely know what strange angel business had Cas so unusually quiet and less tactile than his usual bubbly self but Cas was different and deserved so much more than he had. However, there was something else. There were two elephants in that room. There had been two things tingling in the back of Dean’s mind for a while now.

The first was that Dean and Cas were undoubtedly in love. The knowledge that Cas was here with Dean on the peaceful shores was subtle proof of that. And the other was that something was getting in the way. Something shifting between the bond they had created together, fighting, laughing and sacrificing; the bond becoming stronger and stronger each passing day. Dean knew these things well as he hoped Cas did. But Cas was innocent, unsure of the human ways. Dean often wondered which one Cas would notice first if any at all.

“So,” Cas spoke, cutting Dean from his trial of fearful thoughts, “What’s so urgent that it’s refraining you from doing your daily cycle?”

Cas opened his eyes, glowing in the morning sun and looked up at Dean’s troubled face and gave a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t know, Cas… What do you think?” Cas narrowed his eyes as he notices the hurt in Dean’s voice, almost as if each time Cas turned away from the inevitable conversation was a cut to the throat.

“Dean I… There are a few things you could have noticed,” Cas said, feeling terrible for avoiding the obvious as it clearly hurt the one he wanted to hurt the least.

Dean sighed shakily, “Well… which seems most obvious to you, Dumbo?”

Cas took his eyes off Dean and watched his wings curl a little tighter around of Dean’s waist. Looking more closely, he could see now that it was a lot more obvious that he first thought. Castiel focused on the feathers, some slightly scorched, and some seemed to cling together in clumps as a desperate attempt to fly one more time. Others were only half there and some stuck out in places unhelpful to any form of aerodynamics. And then, of course, there were those feathers that no longer were there at all; the ones that gave in. The feathers that were now lost in the infinite void, slowly turning to stars.

“There’s,” Cas started but feared his voice would crack and fall away just as his wings did, “My wings.”

Dean didn’t know what to feel. Happy because Cas was opening up to him? Or disappointed because Cas failed to notice the relationship dawning on them. Either way, Dean was scared. Scared that Cas was merely mimicking his actions because he thought that that was the right thing to do. Scared that Castiel was blind to all of the affection Dean had been trying to get across. Scared that the angel he was in love with was in danger.

Dean could hear the fear in his voice when he spoke. The way that his voice shook in a deep tremor in his throat made his heart curdle. Cas. The angel who feared nothing and no one. Dean knew that if Cas was scared, this was something big. One thing Dean knew for sure though was that he would support him whether the angel knew how he felt or not.

“Yeah Cas,” Dean said moving his hand carefully away from the feathers to rub at his eyes in a desperate attempt not to cry like the man his father wouldn’t want him to be, “We noticed the wings. So… do you want to talk about it?”

At this, Cas’ wings shook a little against Dean’s back, “It’s okay,” Dean spoke to the reluctant angel and almost cooing softly to his inured wing, “I’m here Cassy, I’m here.”

“I thought I was Dumbo?” Cas said, muffled by the plaid he buried his face into.

Dean sighed at the angel, still failing to remain serious, “You can be whatever you want, Cas.”

“Apart from an angel,” Cas said.


	4. Chapter 4

A thick sinister silence washed over Dean as the fading waves shied away. He didn’t understand. He stopped his breaths and strained his head, temples like thunder, trying to get his throbbing head around what Cas had just told him. The way Cas spoke suggested he was deadly serious, not his usual ironically humorous self. Is what Cas was implying literal? Was he joking? Was Cas just taking a serious moment and making it less awkward? Whatever was happening it left Dean with an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, churned up with the thoughts of him not noticing how he felt, merely copying what he thought was humanly correct, twisting Cas into his own sickly doppelganger. Dean felt like his body was slowly sinking, being enveloped and consumed the shifting sand.

He took a deep breath, his throat uncomfortably dry and said simply, for there was little else he could say, “What?”

Cas turned away from Dean, prying his longing hands away from Dean’s chest and blinking into the blinding sun, “I wanted to tell you.”

Dean laughed harshly at the realisation of Cas’ seriousness, heart pounding in fear, “Cas, what the hell, man? Tell me what?”

The angel noticed now just how worried Dean was. Just how much he cared, “I guess,” he said turning to look into Dean’s eyes, glistening with fear, “I owe you some sort of explanation.”

Dean nodded slowly, not breaking the eye contact he craved so much from Castiel. He took Cas’ hand, fingers intertwined with his own, “Cas,” Dean said, trying to sound as strong as possible, “Please. Just tell me what’s going on. Have faith in me. Have faith in us. I want to help you.”

“I fear,” Cas said, staring down at Dean’s warm hands against his own and breath catching after hearing Dean mention the faith between the two of them, “There is nothing you can do. This thing that’s happening… I’ve seen it before. A long time ago. It happens to the angels who… don’t fit in.”

“Don’t fit in?” Dean asked, wondering how this perfect angel could possibly be seen as anything but impeccable.

“We don’t just get our, as you would call them, majestic angelic powers from thin air, Dean,” Cas said, hoping that Dean could stay supportive, “There’s something, even we’re not entirely sure what, but it’s absolute. Many guess from our father. Others believe it may be some unknown force God hired to sort out the unfaithful angels who serve in heaven.”

“And you’re unfaithful, Cas?” Dean asked, wondering what exactly he meant by ‘sort out’.

“No,” Castiel said, looking up into the eyes of Dean, longing, “But I wouldn’t say I’m faithful to him anymore. I have, regrettably…no faith in him.”

Dean simpered knowing that there was still a small and perhaps insignificant something clinging onto Cas’ degrading wings, and that was faith. He needed that. Losing his wings was one thing but losing faith altogether meant Dean’s angel wouldn’t be the same angel he fell in love with.

“But I have faith in you,” Cas said as he squeezed a little tighter to his hand and Dean froze, “And I have faith in us.”

Hearing those repeated words, the once Dean had just spoken, he smiled sadly knowing that Cas was merely mirroring Dean’s words of adoration. Dean began to speculate if his angel was becoming an echo; a beautiful and near perfect echo that would no doubt make his life supreme bliss. A small thought wriggled and writhed in the back of Dean’s mind, crawling slowly to the peak of his thoughts. Dean couldn’t help asking himself if he could have a relationship with Castiel whilst knowing he was no more than an imitation. Blinking in the humid air, Dean pushed sickening thought of selfishly using Cas to the back of his mind. But this once minute doubt he had that Cas wasn’t indeed showing his own emotions had slowly grown into something he couldn’t flush from his head.

His consciousness swimming in thoughts and doubts, he averted his eyes, breaking eye contact and looking out to the infinite rhythmic ocean he had simply forgotten about. Dean smiled to himself thinking about how many other times he had failed to perceive his surroundings when Cas was around. He moved his hands to his face, slowly attempting to wipe away his troubles, leaving Cas’ hands abandoned in the warm sand and chalky ash.

“Cas,” Dean said as he exhaled from a deep shuddering breath, “What are you doing to yourself?”

Ignoring him, Cas looked down at his lonely hands and began to ask himself why they were no longer wrapped lovingly in Dean’s. He squinted up at him, head cocked to the left a little. Was Dean, the man who had always been faithful even in the most troublesome times, lost interest? Cas queried in pain and curiosity if the realisation of him not being the angel Dean once thought, was pushing him away. Cas wondered if Dean would still love him when he was nothing but the shattered remains of an angel cowering in a mound of his own useless feathers. Cas then wondered if it were best to stay away, stop leading him on. If his affections were genuine, the last thing Cas wanted to do was hurt him. Realising his mistake of hurting the one he loved, Cas sat upright and unwrapped his tender wings from around Dean, leaving his back bare against the burning sun.

“I mean,” Cas said, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I have faith that we will both get through this with the smallest injuries possible, if any. That would be the logical way to go forward, don’t you think?”

Dean sagged a little seeing Cas once again echo his actions of corrupting affection, “That doesn’t answer my question, Cas. What’s going to happen to you?”

Creaking in the tidal breeze, Cas stretched his wings, seemingly yawning, “The thing that allows us to do these angelic deeds, whatever it may be, can slowly loose connection when it detects an angel becoming unfaithful.”

“Slowly,” Dean repeated, the urge to nurse Cas dawning on him, “Hey, Cas, does it hurt?”

Seeing the care in Dean’s eyes Cas faltered, “No. I’m fine. It just feels… strange. Losing power slowly makes you feel smaller every second. Each time I fly, each time I use my powers I weaken. My time lessens.”

“It’s okay Cas,” Dean said feeling guilty for every time he every carelessly used Cas, subconsciously grazing his hand with his own, “We can get through this. You’ll get used to being useless. Hell, I did.”

“Dean,” Cas said as a coldness seeped into his chest, “Don’t you dare say that. You’re not useless. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Giving a quirked grin, Dean placed his hand gently onto Cas’ knee, “Hearing those words from an angel really makes your day.”

Cas let out a short laugh, mostly for Dean’s sake. The angel was somewhat surprised at how well Dean was taking this news. The whole atmosphere of the beach, however, had become a little more platonic which both saddened Castiel and made him happy at the knowledge that Dean would not be upset when the inevitable happened.

“Man,” Dean said quietly, “I have to say, Cassy, I’m going to miss having a guardian angel watching my back.”

“I’ll be there Dean. I’ll still watch over you,” Cas said trying to contain the pain in his voice trying to desperately crawl out of his throat.

Dean laughed, “Yeah but you’ll be human, Dumbo.”

Oh.

“I have to get you home now, Dean,” Cas said, rising up from the sand quickly and reaching out his hand to assist Dean to his feet.

He frowned curiously at the sudden change of topic and accepted Cas hand wearily. Despite his power lessening, the thought of Dean losing interest made him feel smaller than ever. He wondered if he was just getting confused; after all he was still getting used to the way humans show affection.

“Hang on,” Cas said as he hauled Dean up towards him, “You said there was two elephants in the room, Dean. We only discussed one.”

Whatever it was between the two of them, Dean had to admit that now was not the time to trouble Cas with pointless questions regarding petty connections.

Dean laughed weakly and winked, “That was you, Dumbo.”

Cas frowned, slightly disappointed, “Okay.”

The angel turned to glance out to sea one last time. He squinted up into the sky, streaks of golden cloud floating on a lake of sapphire blue. Turning emotionlessly to Dean who was collecting his various pieces of clothing and shaking them, sending shimmers of sand shifting in the air, he took hold of his forearm.

As the angel and man disappeared from the now silent, deserted beach, a single pure white feather swayed in the humid air, moving like a floating metronome and slowly sinking down to lightly lie in the dusty embers and ash. It lay there for a second or so before being picked up by a passing breeze, riding on the currents of the wind and drifting aimlessly into the distant and seemingly infinite void.


	5. Chapter 5

“So nothing happened?” Sam said after taking a long drag from his beer.

“Dude, I told you,” Dean said widening his eyes to show his seriousness, “Nothing.”

“Nothing happened?” Sam said clearly unbelieving, “You were gone for nearly a day, Dean.”

“Well,” Dean started, “You know how things are now. Cas struggled to get us back what with the… you know.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam said, satisfying Dean by moving on from a sensitive topic, “So what’s the deal with him?”

“He’s… not great, man. I mean, Cas is strong but I don’t know how much more of this he can take,” Dean rubbed at his eyes, desperately trying to push the hot glow of the sun back on his skin. He longed to be back with Cas on those shores, alone. They wouldn’t have had to worry about anything. They would be safe. No need to fly leaving a trail of dislocated feathers. They could have stayed there; together.

“So what did you do while waiting for Cas to recharge the batteries in his wings?” Sam asked raising an eyebrow. Dean looked Sam in the eye, inhaling deeply then letting it go in a long agitated sigh.

“Well, I was run down, man, so I slept for a while. Well I say I while,” Dean said trying to fill in the hours of lost time with sleep and other non-intimate situations, “it was pretty much the entire time we were there,” he said trying to sound as convincing as possible and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Really?” Sam said smiling, “So no time for talking. No time for talking about-“

But Dean cut him off before he could finish his sentence. He knew where Sam was going and he didn’t have the time or patience for it, “Look, Sam, nothing happened okay? Leave it, will you?”

There was a viscous silence that flowed over them for a brief moment before Sam spoke again, staring intently down the neck of his bottle, “Did you-?”

“Sammy!” Dean irritably snapped his head to Sam who was viciously smirking behind his bottle now lifted to his gently laughing lips, “The hell, man?”

“What?” He said raising his hands innocently, “I was just wondering if I had won the bet, that’s all.”

“Look, I don’t mind you and Bobby being snarky and all, but seriously,” Dean pointed a convicting finger at his brother, “No bets. Gives me the creeps,” he added, shifting his shoulders slightly.

“What are we betting on?” Dean sharply whipped his neck to see the angel standing behind him and jumped. He couldn’t help noticing a feather slowly sifting through the dust glazed air to land by his boot. He kept his eye on it for a second; taking in the beauty of the objet then remembered that it was just a mere symbol of Cas’ vulnerability.

“Dammit Cas,” Dean murmured, both for the fright and the thought of Cas flying when he was in such a state.

“It’s a bet on-” Sammy started, still smiling into the neck of his bottle, but Dean stopped him with a daggered glance.

“It’s nothing, Dumbo,” Dean said winking at Cas knowing he understood the hidden meaning, then nodded to him, staring him in the eye so he knew he was serious, “You okay?”

Cas smiled back and stepped closer to Dean, controlling his powerful wings elegantly and slowly setting them comfortably in a position behind his back before perching on the sofa next to Sam.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas answered studying Dean, “I’m glad to see that your sunburn is not as bad as it was.”

Sam studied Dean closer, noticing the flared red areas on his face. He turned to Cas and asked, “Why don’t you just heal him?”

Cas flickered his eyes to Dean who merely shrugged as a response, “As much as I would like to, Sam, I wouldn’t say I have… mojo to spare.”

Dean shot Cas a half smile for recovering from what could have turned out to be a long winded conversation, “Anyhow, I think I look pretty hot in fuchsia.”

Cas widened his eyes and gave a slow nod with a smile. Dean’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, melting into burns when he saw Cas’ response, then leaned back into his seat when he saw Sam’s eyes flickering from Dean to Cas.

“Right…” Sam said slowly after taking another swig. He noticed the childish looks they were giving each other and began to feel more and more like a third wheel. Sighing into his beer bottle with a low hum, he rose from the sofa, “I guess I’ll go… check on Bobby.”

Sam winked as he closed the door and Dean frowned and mumbled, “Douchebag,” to no one in particular. There was then a slick silence that devoured the room. Every now and then Dean would look up from the seemingly fascinating bottle only to meet Cas’ eyes, which would then panic and swiftly move away.

Dean laughed, “Man, what has gotten into you?”

“You,” Cas said bluntly after an awkward pause.

Dean blinked and gawped for a second before chuckling uncontrollably, “The hell, Cas…”

Castiel inclined his head and then narrowed his eyes. He then suddenly sat upright, raised his eyebrows in realisation, “No. Wait. I didn’t mean…”

Watching Dean laughing, eyes closed, happy, the angel smiled and began to snigger to himself. He realised that Dean didn’t care about such things as simple as a euphemism and he knew that for some reason, he made Dean happy. Then Cas felt his heart lurch into gear, as if going faster, deep stronger in love. He stopped himself, pushed down the urge and swallowed hard. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be so painfully in love. He also knew that a part of him almost begged for Dean not to fall in love with him. As Dean wiped the tears of laughter from his glistening, youthful eyes, Cas couldn’t get the speculation of him being harmed from the front of his mind. If anything was to happen to Dean… but the angel desperately banished the thoughts from his head. He knew he wouldn’t cope with his sanity intact by the end of the horrors. And if Dean, Cas realised, would go through half the pain he would go through when the inevitable happens, he would stop this now to save him the distress and torture.

Cas smiled sadly as he heard Dean mumble ‘Dumbo’ under his breath, “Well... I’m glad Sam didn’t hear that. Don’t want him winning that-”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted, “I have to tell you something. I… have a confession. I haven’t told you everything.”

His joyous grin sank and Dean frowned and leaned forward in his seat with his elbows on his knees, almost touching Cas’, “What’s going on Cas?”

Dean swallowed hard, a thick throbbing now hollowing his chest. Cas tore his eyes away from Dean’s which were now inspecting Cas’ face, worry creating a soft glaze over his radial irises. Dean frowned and blinked hard. How could the situation possibly get worse?

“This thing that’s happening to me... I’ve asked around and done research into our ancient archives and… there just isn’t anything that I can do.” Dean placed his hand gently on Cas’ knee.

“It’s fine, Cas. I don’t care. If you were human it wouldn’t matter to me. I don’t want you getting all worked up over this.”

Cas’ pushed Dean’s hand away, letting it hang helplessly next to his leg, “No, Dean you don’t understand.”

Dean pulled his hand to his bottle and sat back a little, “Cas, why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because you-“ Cas started.

“Because I what, Cas?! I’m mortal? I’m useless?” Dean put his bottle on the floor by his boots and grabbed Cas’ wrists, “Dammit Cas, we’re… you’re not going to get anywhere if you won’t let me help you.”

“Dean,” he said softly, slipping his wrists from Dean’s clutches and took his hands in his own. The angel gripped them tight and stroked them gently with his thumb. How was he going to tell Dean? The pain of guilt and love curdled in his stomach. He felt a stab of longing in his chest but pushed them down and out of his mind, pulling his hands away and leaning a little more back onto his tattered wings, “What’s happening it’s… not like losing grace. Losing your grace can happen through your own will or someone can take it. But this is… out of my control… out of anyone’s control. It’s completely self-inflicted and entirely my own fault.”

Dean widened his eyes, staring sympathetically, “Cas for the last time… I don’t care that you’re going to end up a human. If anything, I kind of like the idea of-”

“No, Dean, you’re not listening,” Castiel said shifting to the side slightly away from Dean and raising his hands protectively.

Moving with him, Dean grabbed the angels shoulder, gripping the coat that glowed in the bleeding sunlight, “No! Cas, _you’re_ not listening! I-”

But he stopped him, violently pushing his hand away, effortlessly, but no amount of power could stop the anger raising in his tightening throat, “You what Dean? You can help me? You can save me?”

“No, Cas. I’m sorry that I can’t but I-” Dean said raising his voice in frustration, “But I can make this easier for you! Or at least try!”

“No, you can’t Dean!?” Cas said flaring his wings as he rose from where he was seated, “You think you can but you can’t!”

“Why not, Cas? I’m pretty sure if you let me I could get you through this, dammit!” Dean could feel it now, the thick sensation in his chest that built and built as he choked back the tears. He blinked slowly in a desperate attempt to keep the floodgates firmly shut. The last thing he wanted was to allow Castiel to think he was weak.

“Dean, we… you can’t because-“ Cas held back the urge to tell Dean everything. About how he felt and why he couldn’t allow Dean to be hurt when the time came. The angel considered telling him he loved him but pushed it down deeper and prayed that those thoughts would never arise again.

“Because what, Dumbo?!” Dean snapped hoping that this was a sign of him showing emotions of his own instead of this cruel mimicking. There was something small inside of him, a spark at the back of his mind that longed for the angel’s emotions to be his own and maybe even feel the same way. He just wanted everything to be okay and back to the way it was and if being human would bring Cas closer to him then so be it. If anything, he almost looked forward to it. The thought of growing old with Castiel made his heart flutter. He would give it all up; everything. The family business, fighting and hunting. Dean would trade it all in for a long happy life with his angel.

He stood now, looming over Cas, dominant in the jagged shadows of the angel’s wings as the setting sunlight leaked through the cracks, streaks of blooded light illuminating the dust that shifted in the disturbed air.

Cas looked up, saw the confused rage in Dean’s eyes and felt it bubbling inside of him. Dean yelled again but the angel couldn’t hear for the throbbing in his temples. He moved his shuddering hands to his head in a panicked yearn for bliss. He could hear the muffled yells from Dean and saw his mouth move in speech. For the first time he felt his breath in his lungs, moving and scraping in his windpipe as the air rasped through his body faster and faster until he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Castiel yelled in all honestly shattering all throbbing in his head:

“Because I’m going to _die_ , Dean!”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean ceased instantly, caught the breath in his throat and felt his heart lurch in confused agony. The angel looked up at the man who felt his legs grow weak. He began to sway and grip his brow, closing his eyes as his legs buckled and he fell back onto the seat; a long agitated breath escaping as he dropped. A harsh white ringing flowed through his ears as he cradled his head in his tightening fingertips, knuckles growing paler. For a brief second he considered if Cas was speaking softly to Dean in his true voice as the ringing grew more intense and seemed to radiate from inside his own heavy head. He didn’t understand. He thought all this would be okay. He thought Cas would be okay. Okay? When was anything in Dean’s life ever going to be okay?

He cursed under his breath as his mind spiralled, spinning his thoughts into a whirlpool of confusion. All thoughts and plans of a future with the angel he loved began to crumble and fade in his mind. Potential memories became raptured dreams in his throbbing head that was now swimming in the mangled mess of reality. Dean felt himself disintegrate.  

“Dean,” Cas uttered quietly. This wasn’t the way he wanted to do this. The rage leaked out of him slowly after the blow like an overflowing sink having the plug pulled from its core. The angel felt all fury seep from his now silent head and the rush of guilt and pain replace the shattered emotions. For the first time since he had taken Jimmy Novak as his vessel, he felt the stinging sensation of salty water begin to push up through his lashes. He held them close, kept them tight; attempting to will them back inside of him was useless. He blinked slowly as the new sensation of tears welled through his vision, blurring Dean to a shifting shadow in the illuminated dust, rising and drowning him in a twitching, translucent vale. Cas lowered himself down, grappling the sofa arm shakily to steady himself when his wings convulsed uncontrollably, jerking with his emotions.

“No,” Dean muttered harshly into his tear glistened palms, “You can’t just…”

The words clogged in Dean’s throat as the choked, shuddering breaths clawed greedily in his lungs. This wasn’t happening, “I…”

Cas blinked as a tear fell from his lowered head. It flew downwards like a weighted feather; the droplet glistened like bright blood as the sanguine light flooded its flight path igniting the dewdrop a molten copper. It cascaded to the floor, sending sparks of saddened convoluted coral. He watched through blurred sapphires as the carpet turned a darker shade of blue. Casting his eyes upwards he noticed the severed feather behind the chair where Dean cowered. Cas shuddered again at the thought of hurting Dean. This was all his fault.

Or was it? Dean was the one who convinced him, prying and pushing at the idea of his father not being there for him. Dean was the one who placed all doubts in his mind. And, of course, Dean was the reason all faith had moved from his lost father to the hopeless man he had somehow managed to fall in love with. But Castiel couldn’t blame Dean for this. It was his own doing… but Dean couldn’t help feel a twinge of responsibility.

The angel rose to his feet, moving with quirked elegance to the side slightly to examine the feather closer. He hunched down on his knees and cradled it in his palm, breathing softly so as not fracture its vulnerable and delicate frame.

“You’ve served me well, solider,” Cas said as soft as the feather nestled in his grasp as he stood, “Perhaps there is one last thing you could do.”

Castiel moved towards Dean, sitting cross-legged in front of him. Nudging his fingers underneath Dean’s chin, Cas lifted his face. Dean allowed him to take the weight of his head as the angel supported him with one hand, stroking his face with his thumb to wipe away the tears. Cas could see by the look on his face that he was more confused and shocked than upset. The angel thought about how often he gets to see such beauty up close; to touch it. He thought of how lucky he was. No doubt, the luckiest angel in the Garrison, because he was the only angel who could be close enough to Dean Winchester to fall in love with him.

“It’s okay, Dean. I lived a long life,” Castiel said as he moved his free hand to Dean’s eyes, taking the feather and gliding it smoothly under his water clogged eyelashes. As he allowed the feather to drop from his grasp, the once silken vale now slick and clumped with tears, he placed his hand lightly on his cheek.

“Stop it. Stop talking like you’re already dead, dammit,” Dean leaned into Cas’ palm, sinking into his grip. When he opened his eyes he noticed Cas’, raw and red. The angel had been crying and Dean couldn’t help feel like it was his fault. He shouldn’t have pushed him; shouldn’t have yelled. And now he didn’t know what to feel.

“I kind of already am. It’s okay,” the angel smiled slightly, “There is no need to worry.”

Dean looked into him eyes, fearful yet calm. Shoulder sagging, he smiled softly, “I am not letting you die, Cas.”

“There is nothing you can do.” Cas said firmly, biting his lip in a desperate urge to fight tears. He had to remain strong for Dean. The angel glanced down briefly to the feather on the floor; tattered and shredded. Strong? He was anything but.

“No, you can’t just leave, Cas,” Dean froze until Cas was looking back into his eyes, “Not after all we’ve been through. We’ll find a way.”

Cas felt his chest throb as Dean spoke the words he didn’t want to hear. If there was one thing he loved about Dean Winchester, it was his ability to be determined; have his mind set in stone and never give up. But now, the attribute he once admired now pained him.

Because he would try. He would keep trying to save him and Cas knew that there was no way to stop the inevitable, “I’m sorry Dean.”

“How long?” he snapped.

Cas inclined his head and blinked slowly, accepting with a heavy heart that when he opened them nothing would change.

“How long do you have until…” Dead trailed off, letting his head move with a shuddering pace closer to Cas until their heads were touching. This was it. This was the contact that Dean craved. He closed his eyes and allowed the time to just stop and feel Cas’ breath on his face. He prayed he could stay here forever.

“That depends Dean,” Cas spoke deeply and closed his eyes with a light sigh, “On how often I fly.”

Dean snapped his head up sharply, agonising devotion flaring in his chartreuse eyes, firmly moving his hand to grip the angel’s wrist from his face, “Then stop flying, dammit!”

“That’s harder than it looks Dean,” Castiel shook his head softly but tensed after Dean’s outburst, “Flying is an angels instinct; a silent addiction.”

“Find yourself an angel rehab, get a bus,” Dean snarled, and then wavered his hand out to the general direction of the window to the yard, “Get yourself a fancy ass car. Do whatever Cas. Just… not this.”

“Dean,” Cas spoke in a low, sorrowful tone.

“Anything but this… I don’t want to lose you. I lost everything… don’t let me lose you too. I nearly lost Sam. We don’t talk about it much but… it was a long time ago. Late teens, you know… hopeless, useless, going nowhere,” Dean gave a sharp bark of a chuckle at how he was somehow changing the subject, “That’s what he thought. That’s what he thought of himself.”

Cas narrowed his eyes in thought, “He-“

“He tried, Cas, yeah… he gave up. Now, imagine if he _had_ given up. How many lives do you think would never have been saved? How many days after would… would I have lasted without him?” Dean stopped until Cas was looking straight into his eyes, “How many days would it have taken _me_ to give up? How many days would I last if you did?”

“Dean…” The angel’s mouth lay open, speechless. He knew the troubles Dean had gone through, the pain, the tragedy. He should have known there was something more, “I’m sorry.”

Dean scoffed, “Right.”

“I am.” Castiel spoke firmly but stood shakily to his feet, looking down at the damaged man.

Dean winced and felt his head strain, then looked up to his angel.

But he was gone.

He watched as two feathers flittered and swirled in the now empty spaces. One circled and swooped gently to land on the floor, the blue of the carpet forcing images of Dean fixing Cas’ tie to the top of his mind… back when it was somewhat simpler between them. Partners; not… whatever this was. Dean noticed the other fall and sway towards him. He closed his eyes as it brushed past his cheek in a silken stroke before floating to rest on his knee. Hands shaking, he carefully placed it between his fingers, delicately smoothing it over in his grip. Realisation sinking in, Dean shuddered in pain, blinking in his troubles. When his eyes opened and flickered into focus, he watched the feather droop as single tear fell onto its delicate frame. He let if fall, weighted to the ground, lost and forgotten.

Sitting upright, he took a breath, holding it there in the silence. As the wind rushed out of him he closed his eyes.

“Dean.”

He coughed loudly, clearing his throat in an attempt to stop the oceans forming in his eyes. Sam slowly stepped through the door, his expression broken in a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t,” Dean said sternly, turning away.

Sam looked away. He hated seeing his brother like this. He sighed, chest pushing outwards, “Dean… I’m sor-”

“I said don’t, Sam!” Dean turned violently to look Sam in the eye, kicking over the empty bottle in the process. Silence.

Sam shook his head sadly as his brother rigidly moved his hands to his head, “Listen, I’m sorry. I heard-”

“I need some air,” Dean said, swerving swiftly behind the sofa, towards Sam and the open door.

“Dean, I…” Sam moved his hand to grip Dean’s arm but was harshly brushed away.

Dean pushed through the doorway, “I said I need some air.”

Sam watched him storm through front door, slamming it behind him in a loud burst as Bobby poked his head through a doorway.

“What in God’s name has gotten into him?” He shook his head, a look of both surprise and concern radiating through his beard.

Sam sighed, knowing that going after him was not an option. He was best left alone for now, “Oh, you know… The usual… Cas.”

Bobby half smiled and replied with a grunt as his head moved back inside the room. Sam stood in the doorway for some time. Silent. Thinking. Then, upon hearing the purr of the Impala, he moved to the window in time to see the car pull out and speed away. Sam watched it move, still the slickest black in the evening sun and seemed to glisten in blood as the florid light burned in the evening sky like a sinking inferno. He stayed there, head resting on the hot glass, until he could no longer hear the grunting machine.

He didn’t know where Dean was running. He rarely did. Sometimes Sam thought that Dean didn’t care which direction he was going, so long as there was always be the possibility he was running towards Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for taking the time to read this drivel! Be sure to look out for the next chapter that I hope I can write and upload whenever I so choose because I am my own man.
> 
> pray-to-the-gay.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to when Sam was 15 and going through some tough times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, because everyone loves a good flashback. 
> 
> WARNING:  
> Self harm and suicide is pretty much the main theme of this chapter.
> 
> (Also check out M83 - Graveyard Girl as I quoted the song a little in the chapter)

A lake of red. Still. Stagnant. It flooded the cracks and chasms between tiles on the bathroom floor, creeping steadily inch by inch. It seeped and slithered down the rows, turning right angles; a road network of iron. With the door bolted, a note poorly written and nobody home, Sammy hugged his legs with one arm, the other hanging loosely, suspended over the side of the bath. He rocked slowly, adrenaline pumping through his burst veins, straining with jagged breaths. The blade that now lay bloody and slick at the foot of the bath had been used swiftly and with emotion, guttural cries of sorrow and abandonment echo in his mind. And now there was nothing to do… but wait. Wait for the pain to drip away like the copper scented ooze from his wrist and arm. Sammy calmed, letting his head flop back lazily, humming to himself as the tears soaked into his shirt, steadily singing himself into a sleep he prayed he would never wake up from.

An engine. A purr of a van, a truck, anything. A sign. A sign that someone was going to find him. Someone was going to try stop him. Someone was going to make him stay in a world  where he was unnecessary.

 _‘I'm gonna jump the walls and run.’_ Sammy thought to himself, his perception blurry. _‘I wonder if they'll miss me. I won't miss them.’_

Click. A door opening. The sound of paper and plastic, the rustling of bags. The soft thump of boots on carpet.

“Sam!” he heard Dean yell up the stairs, as the sound of another vehicle pulling away faded, “Bobby’s gone to deliver that Ford. Now, I don’t know about you but I say we crack open that whiskey he has stored and drink till Spock’s ears look round. You up for some Star Trek reruns before he gets back?”

Sam groaned as he heard Dean’s boots getting louder, reaching the top of the stairs.

 _‘The cemetery is my home; I want to be a part of it,’_ Sammy lulled strange words in his numbing mind, _‘Invisible even to the night…’_

“Sammy?” Dean asked, cheerfully knocking on the door, each knock a thick, violent crash in Sam’s head, “Don’t tell me you fell asleep on the toilet again…”

Sam remained silent, feeling his eyes flutter shut, _‘Then I'll read poetry to the stones. Maybe one day I could be one of them; wise and silent.’_ Sam smiled slightly as the pain leaked from him, replaced by a cold, still sensation.

Dean slammed his fist into the door again and again, his voice rising in caution as he called out, “Sam!?”

 _‘Waiting for someone to love me…Waiting for someone to kiss me’_ Sam bit his lip and sobbed slightly as he heard his brother’s body slam into the door. The crack of wood, the splinter and seizure.

“Dammit, Sammy, open this door right now!”

There was a pause, a beat, and then the door was off its hinges, slamming into the floor, the noise sending a shrill ringing through Sam’s head.

“ _Jesus_ , Sam,” the words caught in Dean’s throat as he sank his knees into the pool of his brother’s blood, feeling the warmth soaking into his jeans.

“I’m fifteen years old and I feel it's already too late to live…” Sam carried on, slurring his words aloud, too weak to even try grasping the front of Dean’s jacket, “Don’t you?”

Not taking his eyes from Sam’s smiling, sobbing face, he reached for a towel and carefully wrapped it around his arm, keeping it tight, fighting to stop the flow.

“No, Dean. Don’t,” Sam whimpered idly, almost though he didn’t want to inconvenience him.

“Sam,” he shuddered and shook as he gripped Sam’s arm with a shaking hold, eyes welling up, blurring his vision, something he could have been thankful for. Dean groaned and felt the lump in the pit of his stomach grow heavier, “ _Fuck_ , no. God, no, Sammy, no…”

“Dean…” he whispered, somehow feeling more alert, more alive. He hated it, hated that Dean had done this to him. He was so close.

“Jesus, Sammy…” Dean took out his phone, keeping one rattling hand firm around his brother’s wrist.

“C’mon, _c’mon_ ,” he mumbled into the phone, his voice almost failing him, “Bobby, I need you here, _now_. Sam, he… Bobby, please, call an ambulance. Please, get here now as-”

Dean’s voice trailed off when he sobbed, unable to control his breaths and dropping his phone to the sticky floor below. Gripping the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut, just for a second and cursed under his breath, “ _Fuck_ , no…”

“Mom…” Sammy muttered, eyes still closed, bitter tears slipping though, “Mom’s dead. Dean I don’t even remember her face. Dad… Dad _hates_ me, he never gave a crap about me. He raised us as… as warriors. The moment we showed weakness we were useless… _I’m_ useless.”

“Sam…” Dean started but knew his voice wouldn’t be able to finish anyway.

“No, Dean!” he raised his voice, feeling the rage and fury welling up inside, tensing his muscles in a desperate attempt not to scream with all his might, “Dean, I have nothing! I have you and Bobby and a sack full of memories I never _ever_ want to have to live through again. And you were always Dad’s favourite. You’re Bobby’s favourite too, and my life is going nowhere, Dean! I’m worthless, a burden to you all! My life is _literally_ a nightmare… sometimes I feel like one of the monsters we’re hunting!”

Sam spluttered and coughed through his sobbing as Dean gripped tighter around his arm. His voice was a choked snarl ridden with longing and anguish, “Now you listen to me, Sam Winchester. You’re gonna get your angst ridden ass out of this river of self-hatred you’ve created for yourself because I swear to God, you mean everything to me. And I know this is a dusty record I’m spinning here, but it will get better. We’ll get you to collage. You can live whatever life you want, away from all this. Create new memories that’ll laugh so loud you won’t even be able to hear the painful ones yelling at you from the back of your mind. Look at me, Sammy. _Look_ at me!”

Sam lazily fluttered open his eyes to meet Dean’s. He’d never see his brother like this, covered in blood and his eyes… he’d never seen them so full of confused pain and worry.

“This,” Dean gestured to the bath, the knife, the arm, “This can’t happen again… please. Sammy, don’t do this. I’m begging you. You can’t give up I… I wouldn’t cope. I need you, Sam.”

Sam shook his head and winced, confusion and agony curdling in his head, “No… No, I can’t Dean… I just…”

As his breathing became more rapid, Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, hey. C’mon. Hey, remember that time wh- when we went to that beach and we found that weird gold feather looking thing? D- Dude, what were the chances of that, I mean... I’ve never come across something so… so beautiful and unique in my life, Sammy. We didn’t expect it. It… it came out of nowhere, right?”

Sam smiled softly, remembering the sun on the pulsing ocean that day as it set in a rich pink glow and how the amber light reflected from the golden feather blossomed in shards of sharply soothing sunlight.

“Yeah, yeah. Remember that? You never… you can never know when you’re gonna find something wonderful, Sammy. Could be tomorrow, could be next week. Hell, could be years before you find that one thing… that one golden opportunity and Sam… I promise you it’ll worth waiting for. Impossible things can happen. You’re existence… it’s… it’s not impossible but it’s also not very likely. And yours especially is so extraordinary.”

Tears began streaming down Sam’s face as he smiled and almost laughed, “Dean…”

“Don’t let it go to waste. Please. _Please_ promise me you won’t try anything like this again.” The look in Dean’s pleading eyes burned into Sam, churning his thoughts.

“I promise,” he whispered, “But no chick flick moments, right?”

He felt relief wash over him, repeating again and again over and over in his head that Sam would be okay. _Sam would be okay._ Dean chuckled wistfully and looked at his watch. Where in God’s name was Bobby?

“Dean, I'm sorry…” Sammy whimpered.

“I know, I-” but he heard the phone vibrate and snatched it up with a trembling hand.

“Bobby?” Dean spoke sternly, his voice flat and calmer that before, “Where are you?”

“Dean, what the _hell_ is going on? I'm in an ambulance now, we’re a few minutes away,” Dean heard the panic in Bobby’s voice through the phone.

“It’s Sam, he’s… he’s bleeding pretty bad,” his voice caught on the word ‘bleeding’, then wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder to move his hand to Sam’s face, clicking loudly with his fingers to stop his eyes glazing over. His expression remained foggy and drained.

“Shit,” Dean could hear Bobby sighing deeply, “Dean, take your brother outside as fast as you can. We’ll be there in no time. Damn, I want you there and ready to jump into this van, boy. You hear me?”

Dean nodded though he knew he couldn't see, “Thanks Bobby.”

“Shit,” he heard Bobby say to himself before hanging up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologise for how badly written and short this chapter is. I'm going to try up my game, I promise.


End file.
